


all alone in the moonlight

by jeeno2



Series: Reylo One-Shots [11]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cats, Catlo, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Lady and the Tramp (1955)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23739763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/pseuds/jeeno2
Summary: He always waits until it’s dark to visit her.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Reylo One-Shots [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1336408
Comments: 136
Kudos: 435





	all alone in the moonlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afterblossom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterblossom/gifts).



> Originally a [twitter fic](https://twitter.com/jeenonamit/status/1251564259311595522/) inspired by ["C for Catlo,"](https://twitter.com/_afterblossom_/status/1251165371714793479/) a gorgeous piece of art by the incomparable afterblossom.

He always waits until it’s dark to visit her.

The best thing about not having people is he can come and go as he pleases. But she isn’t as lucky.  _ Her _ people make her stay inside, all the time.

He hates it.

He wishes she could prowl and hunt with him.

* * *

He brings her mice and other things as often as he can.

Sometimes, his gifts are still wriggling a little when he drops them at her feet. She loves it best when they’re still moving, so he tries not to kill them too quickly. He can’t always manage it--sometimes the urge to bite and rip is too strong--but he tries his best.

She always appreciates whatever he brings her; dead or alive.

She always appreciates him.

* * *

“It isn’t safe out there,” she tells him one night, as they take turns lapping water from a puddle on her balcony. Her tongue is so sweet and pink and delicate. She is so pretty, with clean white fur and bright eyes. He could watch her drink water all night. “I worry about you.”

He stops drinking so he can look at her properly. He’s never had anyone worry about him before. Why does she?

“I... worry about you, too,” he says.

Now it’s her turn to stop drinking and look up at him. She blinks her eyes slowly, confused. “Why?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. She has all the food she could ever want. She never has to worry about being hurt or hungry or scared. 

He licks a paw, averting his eyes.

“I just... worry about you,” he finishes, lamely. “I worry that you’re bored. That you don’t have anything interesting to do or to kill all day.”

She looks at him for another long moment.

She gently, gently touches the scar he got in that big alley fight with her paw. 

He forgets how to breathe.

* * *

After that he tries to stick close to her house when he hunts. Even during the day.

Six months ago there was nothing, no _one_ that could have ever convinced him to give up so much of his turf. But knowing she’s in there worrying…

It makes his tummy hurt just thinking about it. He can’t even eat properly.

He would do anything to put her mind at ease.

* * *

“Oh! Hello there, kitty.”

The lady who keeps Kittyrey locked up approaches him one night as lies half-sleeping and curled up beneath their bushes. 

The lady is smiling at him, showing off her big straight white teeth. She reaches out her hand to touch him.

He bares his teeth at her and hisses. 

He is a vicious killer.

He does not need pats or people.

* * *

“Did you like the food my people left you last night?”

Kittyrey is bathing her beautiful tail in the moonlight when she asks him that question, her eyes half-lidded with the bliss that only comes from a really nice bath.

“I don’t need handouts,” he says--a little abashed, because he’d been so hungry last night he’d almost considered it.

“It’s good though,” Kittyrey tells him. She moves a little closer and… and why is it always so hard to think clearly when she stands close to him? “They always buy really nice food.”

An idea comes to him.

“Would you worry about me less if I ate it?” 

She nods.

* * *

That settles it.

The next night, when the bowl with the cartoon fish on the rim appears by the bushes underneath Kittyrey’s window, he sniffs at it suspiciously. As reluctant as he is to try this dry-looking cereal he tells himself that if it will make Kittyrey feel better he’ll eat the terrible-looking peoplefood.

He takes a bite.

His whiskers bristle.

It’s… actually pretty good. Not that he would ever admit that to either himself or Kittyrey.

He takes another bite, and then another, until the bowl is empty and his belly is full.

* * *

"They call you Kylo."

"They what?" He stares at Kittyrey, curled up in her usual spot on the balcony. He can't have heard her right.

"My people call you Kylo. They said it suits you." She stretches her long white paws in front of her, yawning. "They're right. It's nice. Just like you’re nice."

He's never had a name. There's never been anyone to give him one. Until now it's never occurred to him to want one.

But now...

_Now_ , he thinks it might be good to have a name. Something Kittyrey can call him.

But a _nice_ name? He isn't nice. 

He's a killer.

He's nobody's pet.

* * *

That night he decides not to return to her house. He prowls the dark streets instead, just like he did every night before he met her.

It begins to rain at midnight. It starts off as a light drizzle, but soon enough it is pouring. By dawn he is shivering, his fur matted and drenched.

At dawn, he drags himself back to Kittyrey’s house, tired and wet and freezing. Underneath the bushes he finds a bowl of food from the nice people who live in Kittyrey’s house.

His bowl of food.

It’s still full. Nobody has touched it.

He wolfs it down.

* * *

“Where were you?” Kittyrey’s eyes are reproachful, sad, when he sees her the next night. He knows better than to stray too far from her again. He’s learned his lesson. “I was scared something bad happened.”

She looks him over, head to tail, for injuries.

Heart in his throat, he rolls over onto his back, showing his belly in silent apology. 

She nuzzles his head.

She begins grooming him, wet raspy tongue running rough and cleansing over his dirty, matted fur. 

He cannot remember anyone ever doing this for him before. He’s seen mothers do this for their kittens and he guesses his mother must have done it for him--but he has no memories of it happening. 

His eyes drowse shut as she washes him.

* * *

When he wakes up sometime later, he and Kittyrey are curled up together on a soft, warm bed in a soft, warm place.

He lifts his head, confused. He opens his eyes. 

He is in a room in a house filled with lots and lots of soft, warm things.

He doesn’t remember walking in here.

“He let me bring him in,” a woman says. His eyes adjust and he sees the lady from the other night standing right in front of him. “I thought he’d never let me do it.”

A man walks over and crouches down to peer at him and Kittyrey. He has had only bad experiences with men before. They hit with their hands. They kick with their feet.

“I’m glad he let you,” this man says. His voice is warm. Kind. 

The man tentatively reaches out with his hand and tries to pet his head. On instinct he rears back, hissing.

But then he feels Kittyrey’s paw on his leg, her reassuring tongue on his face.

“He’s not going to hurt you,” she tells him. “I won’t let him.”

He doesn't trust the man to be kind to him, despite his gentle voice and kind words. But he does trust Kittyrey. More than he's ever trusted anyone or anything in his life. 

She wants him to let the man pat him. For her, he will do anything.

He grits his teeth, and lets the man rub his head.

* * *

"Should we bring him into the vet, Han?"

He hears the woman's voice again from a long way off, but between the comforting pats the man is giving him and Kittyrey's sweet wet nose against his cheek he is already drifting back to sleep.

"Let's wait a few days," the man says. "Don't wanna scare him off."

* * *

Nothing is really the same for Kylo after that.

He still spends most of his days outside. Their people know better than to keep him locked inside all day. He prowls, hunts, finds as many gifts for Kittyrey as he can.

But at night, he isn't just visiting Kittyrey at her home anymore.

He's returning to theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on twitter at [jeenonamit](https://twitter.com/jeenonamit/)!  
> Or on tumblr, also at [jeenonamit](https://jeenonamit.tumblr.com/).


End file.
